


Loud Like Love

by jessrholmes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sherlolly - Freeform, Smut, baby fic eventually, daddy!lock, mollock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:25:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessrholmes/pseuds/jessrholmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper was wrong, she mattered much more to Sherlock than she thought.  But will Sherlock tell her exactly how much?<br/>Molly can't wait forever, she wants a life, a life with a child. A normal happy one. Could Sherlock even fathom that type of life? Or would he just go stir crazy. During the fall, and after. Smut in later chaps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First Sherlolly fic I hope you guys like it. Please leave kudos.

Molly Hooper wasn't stupid. She knew, had always known, that Sherlock Holmes never fancied her. Never would fancy her. She wasn't the type to have someone fall in love with her. Lips to small, breasts to small. To shy, to mousey. She wasn't a runway model, half the time she couldn't even walk without stumbling over her own feet.  
She was fine with that, honest.  
She was good with being alone, she didn't mind most of the time. She had the company of her cat, Toby, and her shows when she was at home. She had coworkers to chat with, and the silent but always listening company of the dead. When Sherlock came into her life she was thrown, she hadn't seen someone quite so magnetic. So brilliant, alive, and beautiful. But christ was he an arse.  
Always says nice things only to get her to do something, and boy was she hopping to do them. Even though it could get her fired sometimes. Even with the rumors about him, about how he got off on it, one day he'd be putting bodies in the morgue. She didn't believe that, at all. He liked the mystery of it all, but underneath all the vanity, and blunt dislike for all things normal, like being polite, she truly thought he liked helping people.  
She had watched him, and tried to understand him, desperate trying to deduce the consulting detective for years now. She'd been through boyfriends, dates, and that horrible incident with Jim, trying to move on with her life, and not wait on him to come around. Becuase it just wasn't going to happen for her. She wasn't getting any younger either, and Molly wanted a family. Even if it was just her, and a little one.  
She had been considering her options for a while now, she was thirty one now, and she's been saving her money, always being frugal, so she had a bit saved. But her flat was horrible, no place for a child. She'd move soon, she thought, in a year at most. She would not wait on anyone, even herself.  
She was locking up St. Barts, the day she started to doubt herself. Earlier that day, she'd seen the saddest look on his face, the most emotion she'd ever seen on it. It had taken her breath away, the startling way it had reminded her of her father. All the family around him, in their house, bustling about as he lay dying, still trying to make everyone feel better. As soon as they looked away though, that look of sadness that would haunt Molly Hooper forever.  
She had told him she would help him, anyway he needed. Even as she said the words she knew she was stupid, Sherlock Holmes didn't need help. She didn't count. So she cursed herself and walked away, angry with trying because even as the git was in serious trouble he wasn't going to crack his marble case.  
She'd left her phone in the lab, bag in hand she walked back through the doors.  
"You're wrong, you know.." Molly jumped, her back hitting the door at the sound of his deep voice. He was standing just in the shadows. She was about to ask wrong about what, when he contuined. "You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you. But you were right. I'm not okay."  
He turned to face her, making eye contact with her, she saw the tears in his eyes, and her heart was pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath to steady herself, "Tell me whats wrong." Her voice cracked, despite her efforts to keep in steady.  
"Molly," He voice came out a little strangled at her name. "I think I'm going to die." Molly's chest went cold, and her eyes began to burn but she willed herself to stay steady. She wouldn't let that happen, if there's anything she could do to stop this, she would.  
"What do you need?" This time her voice came out even.  
"If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?" He was looking at her, honestly, and open, and it wasn't a scheme to make her agree, it was honesty, and it was the first time Molly had even seen the true Sherlock.  
So she repeated, with more strength. "What do you need?"  
He moved closer to her, Molly's nails dug into her palms. "You." Molly brushed off the torrid late night fantasy she'd had with similar words, as he pulled her into the darkness, and began to tell her his plan, what he assumed would happen with Moriarty. She nodded, listening intently, and not interrupting.  
"Now if this happens, Molly, I need to count on you, I need you to make sure you're the one doing my autopsy. That your pronouncing me dead, it has to be sure. One hundred percent."  
"Of course, but Sherlock, how are you going to survive it?"  
"Easy. " He smiled, and gave her a wink, like it was nothing. He seemed to realise he shouldn't of done that, and lowered his tone, and looked down. "It's fine Molly, just stick to your job, okay? I have almost everything in place if this happens. I have to go, keep your cellphone on." He raised the phone out to her, she took it slowly, trying to keep her hands from shaking. He held her hand over it, and looked at her intently, opening his mouth and closing it several times before ending with. "I'll see you soon Molly."  
And boy did she see him. Molly saw as Sherlock fell from St Barts through the window of her office, as she stared out. She found herself flying down the stairs, and waiting by the door as the medics brought him in, and John on the side walk, and the chaos of it all Molly yelled she was a doctor. Molly desperately feeling for a pulse, and finding none at his wrist so she checked his neck, and found one steady, and strong. "He's gone." She said her voice flat, and small. "I'll take him to the morgue." The medics nodded, walked backwards slowly.  
"I'll help you ma'am." Barry, the assistant pathologist said, and the whole way Molly was having a panic attack. She worked up tears, thinking about sad things, and even made her lip tremble, as they were finally in the morgue.  
"You knew him, didn't you miss?"  
"Yes, could you please leave us alone. I'll take care of this." She didn't make eye contact, just stared at Sherlock's still frame. On the way down she had caught his shallow breath, once, but that's because she was looking for it. She saw it again as Barry nodded, and walked out. She waited a good five minutes before whispering harshly. "Sherlock?"  
"That hurt much more than I thought it would." His eyes were open, and he flexed his fingers, and tried to move a bit.  
"That's what happens when you jump two stories!" Molly searched for her stethoscope at her desk, found it and rushed back, listening to his chest, and prying at his clothes to check over his injuries.  
"Ow. "  
"Don't move, you've broke some ribs, I don't think you have internal bleeding. Your badly bruised, all over- Your head, oh my your head-  
"You can fix anything yet, I have to stay like this, you have to write everything up, and Lestrade has to confirm I'm dead as well. I have to fake it so more."  
"Dead people done bleed Sherlock, let me fix your head, just a bit." He sighed, and closed his eyes.  
Molly fixed it, as best she could, and then began the process of talking to detectives that showed up, Lestrade finally viewing Sherlocks body. It all took far to long to Molly and every moment was a moment Sherlock could have internal bleeding, and was in fact dying. Everyone was cleared from the morgue, and she gave her final statement as John stared at her, across the room, his head was previously in his hands. He got up, and began walking over to me. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked completely horrible, Molly felt real tears now.  
"I'll have the- the final certificate tomorrow."  
"Molly, maybe you shouldn't be the one-  
"No. Sherlock wouldn't want anyone else." John said. "She's his pathologist. Molly- Molly he isn't dead, he can't be, Molly-"  
"John-" Lestrade said, sighing, tears in his own eyes.  
"Molly-  
"John I'm so sorry." Molly began to sob, before she scurried off, as quick as she could, praying John wouldn't follow her, and back down the hall and into the morgue, where she locked the door, and pulled down the blinds over the doors windows.

"It's about time your back, this is really killing me here." Molly turned to find Sherlock sitting up, and struggling with his shirt. She wiped at her face, and rushed over to him, helping him out of it.  
"We have to tell John, he's-  
"We cant, he has to think I'm dead, everyone does."  
"But why- why do I know and they-"  
"Moriarty was going to kill them, Molly."He croaked out, a little to loudly.  
She paused for only a moment, before shushing him, and nodding, doing what she could to help his wounds. Wrapping his ribs, and stitching the cut on his head. He whined a little about it, but stayed completely still, like he'd gotten stitches all the time. And as she looked she saw the scars, so many scars, but he was still handsome. Probobly a lot more handsome when he wasn't black and blue.  
"My leg, it's.. It hurts. I think it's just bruised badly but-  
"Let me check it, come one stand up." She held her arm out, and he took it leaning against her. "Where does it hurt exactly?"  
"My right leg, the calf, it may be a slight fracture." He winced as he tried to put weight on it.  
"Your going to have to take off your pants for me to see Sherlock." She said in a tiny voice.  
"You may have to help me with that." He said looking away, embarrassed. Which made her feel better, in a way.  
"Okay fine, lean back hold yourself up." Molly made quick work of his black slacks, and eased them down over his calf, his shoes were thankfully already off.  
His leg was scrapped pretty badly, and very black. Sherlock oddly didn't have very much body hair, she also noted. "Ow." Molly said to her self as she jumped back up to get gauze and alcohol to clean it. "This is going to hurt. " He made a sound, and clenched his jaw as she did what she had too.  
"You know, I didn't think you were actually going to get hurt."  
"There was no other way, they had to see me fall."  
"How exactly are you alive?" She looked up, as she gently felt his leg for a fracture. He bit his lip and closed his eyes. "No fracture, your lucky."  
"Physics."  
"Hmm?"  
"Physics, I jumped just right, angled myself properly, and I didn't panic. "  
"Your not going to explain anymore are you?" He smiled a bit evilly. "You always had a thing for dramatics."

They had to wait till dark to leave, and when they did Sherlock had to wear scrubs, and a beanie of Molly's to hide his appearance. Molly managed to find some pain killers before they left, and Sherlock was feeling much better, but proved for a very hard time getting him up the stairs. She noticed a lot of homeless around her flat, and one, an older woman helped her, with a wink and a "Have a good night ma'am. Make sure your friend doesn't drink too much anymore." Molly knew Sherlock had connections with the homeless, and she hoped they could be trustworthy.  
She brought him to her bed, and covered him up, as he mumbled, and pushed his head into the pillow like an angry child.

Sherlock didn't have a funeral service. He was 'buried' and people visited him later. Sherlock didn't believe in anything besides science, and apparently it was even in his will. People gathered the day though. Molly went, leaving Sherlock asleep, and fed, the telly on.  
Sherlocks parents were there, shocking really how much he looked like them. His exact same shade of eyes, and his fathers frown. Mycroft was there, whom she had met once, when he asked her to rely information about Sherlock to him. She'd said no, and stormed off. She'd never told Sherlock that. Lestrade, and a few other detectives she forgot the names off. Mrs. Hudson, and John.  
No one said much. I think everyone was still in shock.  
John, and Mrs. Hudson stayed the longest, Molly gave them both and hug, and left.  
She didn't leave the cemetery though. She found her father plot, and gave him one of the roses she had got for Sherlock's grave. She leaned down and cleaned off his plot a bit, before whipping around to see Sherlock standing behind her. A crutch under his arm, his clothes all wrong, nothing like Sherlock, brown pants, and jumper, with a leather jacket over it. Beanie on his head.  
"What are you-  
"Had to see the turn out. No one was dancing or cheering or anything." He looked away, out into the sky. It looked as if it was going to rain.  
"Is it so bad to think people miss you?"  
"I'd rather they didn't, to be honest." Molly frowned, as he still wouldn't look at her. "Molly I have to leave. I have to go somewhere, out of London, to rest, and heal, to make sure people think I'm gone then I need to take them down."  
"Who down?"  
"Moriaty's network."  
"How long? You- you can't manage on your own-" Molly was fumbling again, she didn't want him to go, she was already used to having him at her flat.  
"Molly. "He finally looked towards her. "In my will I left you and John my assets, but do not think what I'm about to say has anything to do with that. This isn't exactly the easiest thing I've had to say." Molly was a bit speechless, and couldn't help but wonder, did he leave her this before he knew he needed her help, or after? "I still need your help, you can say no, but I'd like you to come with me. Just for when I'm not working, I don't do good alone, and I barely made it here. I need someone, I need you."

Christ she was such a sucker for him.

And thats how Molly Hooper wound up 3 hours outside of London, in Wells, in a cottage house, trying not to murder Sherlock Holmes. He was pacing the entire house as Molly did the dishes, fingers on his temples, she'd catch im every so often in the reflection of the window above the sink. It had been a month since he's 'death', and Molly had just settled into this house. She'd purchases it was with Sherlocks money, (which was an insane amount), and quit her job, told her little friends goodbye, including John. Before Sherlock was able to leave the house they had to disguise him a bit.  
And very sadly to Molly, she had to cut his hair. Getting rid of those curls was one of the hardest things she had to do, she also had to dye his hair, a lighter brown. He looked like a different person, still stunning, but very different.  
It didn't change his personality though, and Molly didn't know how John could handle being his flat mate. "I need to do something! This is horrible. How can you stand this?"  
"Stand what exactly." She shut the water off, and turned to face him.  
"The silence." He looked at her like was a git for not knowing this already. "It's suffocating."  
"I don't know what to tell you Sherlock! You can order stuff for your room, you haven't got anything in there besides a bed after all. You can listen to music, do you like music?" Her eyebrows rose, then she sighed, dried off her hands, and walked to the fridge. "Are you hungry? You had anything but biscuits for three days. What is your favorite thing, I'll make it, if we have it. If not I'll run down to the market, you can come with me perhaps. I'm just trying to help you Sherlock, you haven't been great company. I did uproot my life for you."  
Sherlock was silent for a while, before he made a sound of... surrender maybe?  
"I like classical music." Sherlock said. "Instruments more than voices. If voices.. something... Soothing. Currently I like Sigur Rós. I don't need anything else, besides books maybe. I like sweets. French toast. You can make that." Then he sat down at the table and looked outside, to the window that had flowers. "I'll try to be better company for you." It only sounded slightly sarcastic, so Molly didn't comment, and got everything needed for french toast out.  
"Exitmusic is a good band if you like soothing." Molly said, cracking an egg.  
Molly didn't see, but Sherlock smiled as he picked up the paper, and crossed his legs on the chair across from him. Molly's hand fumbled, and the egg shell cracked everywhere, she cursed and put her hands on the counter. Sherlock paused before taking a sip of tea. "On second thought perhaps you shouldn't cook me anything. I want to live." "Oh shut up." Molly said angrily. Sherlock laughed, and she couldn't help but join in. .


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock confesses to Molly.

Molly and Sherlock were going to the market the next day. Molly dressed in her favorite sweater, and jeans. She padded in her socks to the kitchen to feed Toby, her tabby cat that was a rescue was finally adjusting to the new house. He only had eye sight in his left eye, but he was a champ. All chubbyness and purrs. He was even trying to get Sherlock to pet him, winding himself around his legs, and attempting to lay on his lap one night. Molly had never seen Sherlock go so still, just staring at him, before slowly going back to reading his book.   
She was pulling on her shoes when Sherlock walked into the room, dressed in jeans. My god jeans, Molly thought. The tight white shirt that clung to him too, and damn did he look good. His hair was pushed back and wet, with one long curl trying to rebel.  
"Molly?" One of his eyebrows raised, as he looked at her intently. Molly was leaning down, mid way to pulling her shoe on.   
She hurriedly pulled it on, and said, "Yes? You ready?"  
"Am I 'disguised' enough?" He fidgeted, and rolled his shoulders, like he was uncomfortable in his own skin, only to wince as he rolled them. His ribs were still tender.   
"I guess so. I mean people are normally used to you wearing the coat, and the hat, so I think your good. I don't think there's any good pictures of you anyway. "  
"That hat." Sherlock scrunched his face ridiculously, and Molly was frozen in place from putting on her coat. She didn't know he could be silly. "What is it with you and staring today? Do I look that ridiculous like this?" He walked over to the coat rack. "Or is it the opposite?" He smiled, his voice deeper as he pulled on his (much shorter) black jackie.  
"You don't normally joke." Molly said buttoning up her red jacket, that currently matched the shade of her cheeks. "It's just, I'm not used to these sides of you." He nodded.  
"I'm not used to this side of you either."  
"What side of me, I'm not different." Molly frowned.  
"Yes, you are. You don't stutter, you've even yelled at me a few times. I used to think I knew you, I'm not so sure anymore." His eyes scanned her, not in a way men normally look at women, but the way Sherlock does when he's trying to figure someone out.  
"Maybe if you wanted to know about me, you could you know, ask. Not sulk about. Conversation is doing something you know." They walked out the door, Molly first.  
They didn't live very far from the store, so the were walking to it. "Ask you what? I know most of your history."  
"You know the facts of my life, not how I feel about it. You get facts, not feelings or conversation. Thats important, you know. Feelings." Molly glanced over at him as the walked. He was watching his feet, hands shoved into his pockets.  
"Fine. Where are you from?" His tone was harsh, but Molly answered anyway.  
"I was born in London, my mom died when I was born. They grave I was at, when you found me was my Dad's, he's next to my mom. I grew up in Cardiff. Where were you born?" Molly asked softly.  
"Westminster. You've met my older brother, and my parents you saw."  
"What was it like, growing up with Mycroft?"   
"Horrible. He was always a nosey, jealous greedy little thing. I thought I got to ask the questions?" He peered over at her, blue eyes piercing.  
"I never had a sibling, I was curious." He nodded.  
"Any other family?"   
"My dad had two brothers, older, their all gone now too, but they have kids. I don't talk to them much, a card maybe on holidays." Molly shrugged. It didn't really matter to her.   
"What made you want to become a pathologist?"She could tell by the tone of his voice he was waining interest, but she liked the sound of his voice. Liked that he was taking the time to even fake it.   
"Um.." Molly bit her lip, then released it. "I like helping people, but I don't... 'like' people. I couldn't take being a doctor. Besides the dead are just as important."   
He hummed in answer, and looked off. They reached the store, did the shopping rather quickly, Sherlock going off to a section by himself and returning with a few odds things. Mostly biscuits of different kinds, some shaving things (which he needed, he had a bit of stubble happening that Molly tried not to notice too much), and a bag of oranges.   
"Do you only eat sweets?" Molly asked. For all the time she'd spent with him, the most she had gotten him to eat that didn't contain a high amount of sugar, was soup, once.   
In reply Sherlock shook the bag of oranges at her before placing them in the cart, and looking around the isle she was in. Which happened to have lady things, and other personal items. Molly quickly grabbed a pack of tampons, and began pushing the cart before stopping to see what exactly Sherlock was staring at. "Sherlock." She whispered yelled from behind his shoulder as he stared at a door marked 'office'.   
He turned on his heel and motioned for her to continue walking. "Underage bag boy is getting extra pay for his extra services with the boss. Middle aged woman teller recently lost her husband, cancer. The customers here keep staring at us both, not in any recognition though. The male to the left, fancies you."   
Molly's eyes kept getting wider as he spoke and she struggled not to trip over her own feet or run in to anything. She glanced to the left to see an okay guy peer at her from a box of cereal he was 'inspecting'.   
"His wife, the aisle over, fancies me." Sherlock said lower so only she could hear. Molly snorted, and they made their way to check out.   
Molly made sure to be extra nice, and smile at the teller, some how hoping it would help a bit. Molly took her items, although a little hefty from the meat she purchased, she wasn't about to ask. They were roughly half way home when Sherlock decided to speak again.  
"So this is what average people do?"  
"Yes, this is." Molly said, adjusting her arms, and looking over at him.  
"Rather dull, don't you think?"   
"I suppose, but it just makes things... better, when you do, you know, happy things."   
"When was the last time you did 'happy things'?" He asked, voice neutral, inquisitive.  
Molly didn't really remember. She hadn't been on holiday since before her father past. Hadn't dated much, hadn't had a proper shag either not that she was bringing that up to Sherlock.   
"Four years, seven months, nine days since a holiday." Sherlock answered for her.  
"How do you do that?" Molly asked, stunned.  
"Three years, six months four days since a long term relationship, and nine months since-"  
"Okayyy, that's enough." Sherlock chuckled at her, and smiled to wide down at his feet. Making Molly stop herself from telling him where to shove it.  
"I pay attention." He said lower.  
"Hmm?"  
"I pay attention to you, Molly Hooper. Thats how I know. " He glanced at her, before moving in front of her to open the gate. The house had a white fence around the front yard, and flower pots in the windows, and it was exactly what Molly had pictured when she was a child. It was white, with a red roof, one story with an attic study. Two bedrooms, but Sherlock had taken the attic for his own.  
I could have a family here. This isn't a tiny apartment, in a sorta bad area, this is safe, and perfect for a baby. Molly shook herself, and hurried herself inside, her fingers were killing her.

Sherlock retreated to the attic, and Molly put everything away while Toby watched. She didn't understand why Sherlock was being so nice, was it all an act? Did he just want to somehow pay her back for what she's doing? Which, what was she doing? Molly jumped at this, like it was her only option, but really, why did Sherlock need her? He had said she counted to him, and just before they came in that he pay'd attention to her. But how had Molly never noticed this? Was she so focused on Sherlock being complete indifferent to her, maybe, Molly didn't know.  
To be honest Molly thought Sherlock was gay, especially since her first few encounters with John, but John made it clear he wasn't. That didn't mean Sherlock wasn't though. She'd heard a rumor, a rumor that just floated around and had found its way to Molly in the form of a girls night and drinks.   
She didn't even like the girls that much, but she had thought she had best try to find a non sociopath, this was, her first, and last attempt after Jim. Sherlock was on the telly, in the corner of the room, and the girls had got on about how handsome he was, and that he could find his way to there bedrooms anytime he wanted. Then, Tammy, turned to Molly who had been rather silent.   
"Molls, don't you know him?"  
"What! You know him Molly?" Jane asked.  
"How come you never said!" Lilly added in a shrill tone that hurt Molly's ears.   
"Oh, I just help him with cases sometimes, bodies, and such." Molly had replied, taking a sip of her drink.  
"Ever shag?" Tammy wiggled her eyebrows at her.  
"Um, no." Molly answered.  
"Well, I heard, that he's a complete fool with women. A virgin." Annie added, who had just came back from the loo.

She didn't know what to believe anymore, between Sherlock asking her to join him, to him hiding his smiles and damn she hoped he didn't shave that stubble. It just did something to her, men with a little bit of facial hair. It wasn't fair really, for a man to look so good with, and without it. Not safe for any hopeless pathologist with internal clock ticking away.   
Molly had music playing in the background as she decided to make herself up some fried fish. The smell of it filling the house, and making Molly's nearly empty stomach growl. Sherlock came downstairs, silently, startling Molly as he seemed to just appear leaning against the sink, Toby in hand.  
"I was beginning to think you didn't know what a cat was." He rolled his eyes at her.  
"Never had a pet, not since Mycroft murdered my guinea pig when I was nine."  
"He what?"  
"It was his science phase."  
"Oh my god." Molly pulled some of the fish onto the done plate, and placed more battered strips into the fryer.  
"He still claims that he was already dead when he dissected him."  
"You poor thing, if you'd like I'll buy you a guinea pig Sherlock." Molly said, completely seriously, but apparently it made to be hilarious to Sherlock. He quit after a bit, and it was silent for a few more minutes as Molly finished up the fish, and plated it, for two.   
She placed a plate directly across from her, and sat down. After a beat, Sherlock sat down, and picked at his fish, took a bite, then seemed to go a little crazy for it. Molly smiled to herself. "Thats something I wouldn't have guessed," he said, after half of his plate was gone.  
"Hmm?" Molly said mid drink of water.  
"You're a fantastic cook. Always surprising." Molly didn't think, she just spoke. ,   
"I'm not really, I wish you'd stop acting like I'm special or something Sherlock. I know your just acting this, to make me feel better or something, but I really need too--"  
"I'm not acting Molly, Christ, I'm trying to be nice, I'm trying to change Molly."   
Molly sat back, and stared. He was looking down, at his folding long elegant hands. "I never thought there was anything wrong with you." She said, quietly. She liked Sherlock, genuinely liked him, even with him being an arse to her. He was brilliant, and wonderful.   
"Oh please, of course I need to change Molly I'm horrible to you. I've always been horrible to you, and I thought- I thought it was the right thing for me to do. Clearly not one of my best choices."  
"How exactly would-"  
"Molly.. Moriaty underestimated you. I've underestimated you. He was set to kill, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, and John, the three people he thought meant the most to me, that mattered the most. But he was wrong, very wrong. I'm-- I'm not good at this, at feelings, so don't expect things from me, that I can't- I'm not normal Molly, I never will be, but I want-- I want"  
"Sherlock just spit it out." Molly said a little to loudly, as her heart pounded, food forgotten.   
"I want you." He voice was much deeper that Molly had ever heard it, he finally looked up meet her eyes. " I wanted to be married to my work, I wanted to ignore you, I wanted to push you away, I wanted to not feel anything for you. I wanted you to hate me so there would be no way for us. I don't feel. I don't have relationships. I have one times, and meaningless affairs. I haven't even had that in fives years. What I'm trying to say, is I want to try and... Date.. you. "

  


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly never thought Sherlock had to change, he's perfect to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut in this chapter!! ;)

To say Molly was speechless, was an understatement. It felt like a dream, one of her fantasies, and she had a strong urge to pinch herself. But then she thought of all the times he hurt her. Of last Christmas when he had embarrassed her so badly. Molly flew from her seat, knocking over her glass of water in the process and ran down the hall.   
"Molly! Molly please." Sherlock was on her heels, but she managed to shut the bedroom door on him. She leaned against it, hands on her knees, and stared at the wall opposite her.  
"Molly. I'm sorry. I know I've hurt you, I- I don't know what else to say. I thought I was-"  
"You always think your doing the right thing, the smartest thing, but half the time your coming off as a complete cock Sherlock!" Molly yelled, spinning and staring at the door.   
"I know."   
"You were horrible to me! All because of what? Moriaty wasn't there when we first met Sherlock. What caused you to be an arse before then?"  
"I'm not good, for anyone. I don't know how to do this. Don't you understand! I don't know how to do this!" He voice grew louder before she heard his footsteps retreat, and the sound of him on the stairs, and above her.   
Molly sat on the bed, and she started to cry, not a slow tear running down her cheek, but real sobs that only made her angrier. _This is too much_ , she thought. _Why did I do this? Why did I come here when I knew any future with him would be so difficult?_ **_Why am I yelling at him when I should be snogging him for Christs sake, I've waited for those words for so long._** _Why? Because he's an arse Molly you don't need him in your-_  
"But I do." Molly whispered to herself, wiping her eyes. ** _Lets just face it Molls, it's always going to be Sherlock Holmes for you._** Every man she compares to him. Every assumption she has, has a following thought of "I wonder what Sherlock would think." Every dream she has always has him in it.   
"Molly?" His voice called from outside the door again. "I didn't mean to make you cry Molly. I should leave. This was a bad idea."  
Molly didn't feel her feet move, but she was opening the door, and staring at Sherlock within seconds. "Don't. Don't you dare leave me yet."   
His beautiful eyes were shining a tad bit to brightly, his cheeks were red, and his bottom lip quivered slightly, and Molly kissed him. She felt him take a deep breath, before his lips slowly started to kiss her back. Christ were they soft. Her small lips fit just perfectly against Sherlock's full ones. His hands moved to the sides of her face, and he kissed her deeper. Mollys hands were on him, one on his neck, the other placed over his heart. She felt it beating against her hand, to fast but steady.   
The broke away for air, but Sherlock's lips didn't leave her skin, he was focused, and hunger as he kissed her. Her cheek, chin, and her neck, his arms moved down to hold her against him. Which was good, because Molly didn't know if she'd be able to stand if he didn't.   
She ran her fingers through his hair, and pulled his face gently with the other to kiss him again. She licked his bottom lip, and Sherlock took the invitation, exploring her mouth with his tongue. She moaned, and internally yelled at herself for being so loud. Sherlock didn't seem to mind at all as he growled and pushed her back, kissing her harder until her legs hit the edge of her mattress.   
They broke apart again, Sherlock kissing her neck, and sucking gently, Molly tried to gather her thoughts. "Sherlock." She whispered before moaning again as he licked a particularly sensitive spot. His long fingers went under Molly's jumper, gently caressing the soft skin of her lower stomach. "Sherlock?"   
"Hmm?" He said against her skin.   
"Um.. I heard a rumor-"  
"I'm not a virgin Molly." Sherlocks arms went under her, and picked her up, placing her on the bed. He crawled on top of her, Molly felt his body heat on every part of her. He was a tall man, and Molly herself was barely 5'3. He looked down at her, his pupils dilated so much she could only see a thin ring of the beautiful blue gold she loved so much. He stroked her cheek softly as he inspected her face, staring at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. The wonder in his eyes made Molly's stomach fly away with butterflies. His thumb stroked her bottom lip. "I was so stupid to say your lips were too small."   
He kissed her, softly. Molly closed her eyes, and let herself feel. Just feel. Their sweet kiss spiralled into a passionate one, and Molly was pulling at the buttons on Sherlocks shirt. He broke away to take it off for her, and then pulled impatiently at Molly's. She was wearing a thin pale pink bra that had seen better days, but it didn't seem to matter in the slightest as he worked to get it off of her. Surprisingly, he wasn't that good at it. Making Molly giggle. "So there's one thing in life Sherlock Holmes isn't good at eh?"  
He glared at her before smiling brilliantly. Molly took it off and tossed it. Sherlock stared at her, licked his bottom lip, and leaned down. He kissed a hot trail down her neck, sucking on her collar bone, licking between her breasts before finally kissing them. His large had massaged one, as he sucked on her nipple till it was almost painfully hard. Molly moaned, and rocked her hips upward as she held on to his hair, eyes closed.   
Sherlock kissed her chest once more before he unbuttoned her jeans, and pulled them down her legs. He kissed her stomach, slowly moving down, to the hem of her underwear. Molly stared as he hooked his fingers quickly into them, and slid them off of her before she could react. The offending item was soaked. "Mmm." Sherlock moaned softly as he stared at her. Molly had an urge to cover herself up, but that disappeared as Sherlock ran a finger down her slit. Her legs opened for him, and he groaned, louder this time.   
Molly could hear that sound forever. "So wet, all for me." Sherlocks mouth was on her, and she lost her breath. His hand on her stomach, and Molly held it. She moaned as he circled her clit, and sucked on it gently.   
"Ohh god Sherlock." He kept repeating the process, and Molly was already close. Then he moved a finger inside of her, curling it upwards, and touching her in all the right places. He sucked on her again, and added a second, and Molly was gone. She never was much of a screamer, but her orgasm hit her so hard she screamed his name. He wasn't even fully naked yet. Molly thought.   
Sherlock kissed her clit gently, fingers removed, he leaned up again, and licked them. Molly hadn't seen a more arousing sight in her entire sexual life. "So sweet, my Molly." His voice was so low and deep, she had to stop herself from shuddering.   
Molly ran her hand down his chest, and to the front of his jeans. His hardness was evident, she undid the bottom and zip to free him. He groaned pushing down his jeans, kicking out of them. Molly hands were greedy as she pulled on his black boxers. She licked her lips at the sight of him, thick, and not to long, but perfectly long enough.   
Her hand wrapped around him, stroking him gently. "Let me-" Molly had begun to push on Sherlock to get him to lay down so she could return the favor, but he shook he head.   
"No- Been to long for me, I just want to be inside of you. I'm sorry if I dont" Molly silenced him with a kiss, and opened her legs a bit wider, her heels on the mattress. The heat of skin against skin was almost too much for her, she ran her hands gently over him, being careful of any bruises.   
He broke the kiss, taking a hold of himself, and pushing into Molly slowly. His eyes were closed as he seemed to try to treasure the moment, she could see the strain it took him to go so slow though. She gasped when he was fully inside of her, filling her perfectly. "Oh god." Sherlock said as he moved his hip slowly. "Your so perfect." He kissed her again, feverishly, as his speed quickened.   
Molly rolled her hips against his, making him grown. She held on to his shoulders, as he moved his face to the crook of her neck, kissing and sucking her as he grinded into her.   
She took advantage of the angle to do some kissing herself. Sucking on the soft skin of where his shoulder and throat met. She used the momentary weakness of Sherlock to roll him on to his back. He let out a gasp as Molly sat up, riding him. He stared at her, hands on her hips, guiding her.   
Her eyes closed as she felt another release soon coming for her, her movements becoming faster. Sherlock raised up wrapping his arm around her, his mouth finding her nipple, and his free hand her clit. Molly came again as she grinding down onto him, moaning, and shaking, she was back on her back as Sherlock pounded into her.   
All his care melted away as he was lost in searching for his release. He came quickly, spilling inside of her, groaning, and shouting. Nearly as loud as Molly herself. He collapsed against her, hot wet skin, and limbs. She held him as they caught their breath. He gently pulled away from her, to her side. He kissed her sweetly, and Molly stroked his face.   
They fought to get under the blanket, and Molly giggled at his anger at the fabric. She rested her head on his chest once they were finally comfortable. Her arm across him, and his around her back. "Sherlock?" Molly whispered.   
"Hmm.. Yes?" He mumbled sleepily.   
"How long will you stay here with me." Her voice was so silent she thought he didn't hear her for a moment.  
"My brother is working on finding all of Moriaty's network, but he can't do it on his own."  
"How long, Sherlock."  
"I think he can manage for a few more months, four to five... " He trailed off.   
"Will you come back to me?"  
"Obviously." Molly smiled, and curled into Sherlock further, wrapping a leg around him. Maybe if she held on enough, he wouldn't go at all.  
"Molly?" Sherlock whispered.   
"Yes?" She whispered back.  
"The silence isn't bad anymore."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic life comes with a few surprises afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny bit of naughtyness, but really mild, only mention.

Molly woke up the next morning to Sherlock's arms wrapped around her. His face pressed against her shoulder, he was sound asleep. She eased her way over, on to her back, where he greedily hugged her closer, head snuggling into her chest. Molly had never seen him sleep, he'd always waited till she went to bed herself. He looked years younger, no stress lines on his face. His lips curved up slightly as he let out a sigh. He was dangerously close to her nipple, and she wanted to wake him to see what he'd do with it.  
Molly suddenly heard a percent buzzing sound mixed with a sharp ding. Sherlocks cellphone, his new one that is, was ringing from his discarded pants on the floor next to Mollys side of the bed. Mycroft only had the number, as far as she knew that is. His contact with the world of crime, and the one that helped stage and perfect his suicide. Molly prayed it would stop, but it didn't, and Shelock made a sound before leaping up so violently he knocked his head on the wood bedboard.  
"Ow." He rubbed his head, and crawled over her as she giggled, dangling off the bed (Molly got an eyeful of his fantastic ass as he did so) he grabbed his pants, sought out his pocket, and leaned back phone in hand. "What have you got?" He asked, voice clear of sleep like he'd been up for hours. Molly faintly heard a voice, ears straining to listen. Sherlock's eyes darted to her face. "Yes, I currently am unable-" He was cut off, this time Molly heard.  
 _"What little game of yours could be so important to ignore this? Playing pirate again, brother?"_  
"Mycroft, I said I'm currently unable to go. I would not even if I was, it's far to soon. I cannot have anyone believing I'm alive. This has to be planned just-  
 _"Yes yes. Perfectly. I'll deploy my best then. Would you care to tel-"_ Sherlock snapped the phone closed.  
"Was that-"  
"Unimportant. Simple, lower level, practically harmless. Should be able to get on without me." Sherlock's back was straight, his features sharper, harder again, and Molly yearned for his tender looks or sweet sleeping face again. She touched his cheek as she raised up, making him look at her.  
"I know, it's hard for you.. To ignore a case, to live like this. It isn't you. I don't want you to think I'm constraining you, I'd never hold you back-"  
"I know Molly. I wasn't lying to him, it's too soon. Besides. I made a promise to you." His eyes had slowly fallen to her chest, and she realised the blanket had fallen down, exposing her. His lips curved into a devilish grin as he pulled her against him, planting a kiss directly on her mouth.  
They didn't leave the bedroom for another hour.  
When they finally did get in the kitchen they'd discovered Toby, despite his one eye, had found their leftover abandoned fish and was laying fat and happy on the table, belly up.  
Molly made french toast, and a nice pot of tea for them both. It took longer than normal thanks to Sherlock insisting on watching from behind her, arms wrapped around her waist for the majority of the time. Molly didn't have it in her to say no to it. She was so happy, she couldn't stop smiling, and when Sherlock couldn't either it made her want to explode. She thought, if she did, she'd turn into a thousand butterflies.  
Molly sipped on her tea as she watched Sherlock look at the morning paper intently. "Anything interesting?"  
He closed the paper abruptly."Not at all I've just been staring at it trying to look clever. Want to take a shower?" He got up, walking towards the bathroom, he undid his robe and let it drop.  
"He's going to be the death of me." Molly muttered as she half ran after him.

Life was treating Molly Hooper pretty great for the next few weeks. Sherlock wasn't able to keep his hands off of her for very long, it was almost like he was a man addicted, and she was his drug. She tried not to think bad thoughts, like what happens when she lost her thrill. She almost considered asking him, and ending it before she got so attached that she might not be able to breathe if he left her.  
She feared it was already to let, and kept telling herself she was fine on her own, like she was before him. But their life was just so.. Domestic. In an incredibly good way, and Molly had never ever had that before, and it was addicting.  
Sherlock was eating her food, at least one meal a day, shagged at least two times a day. Their record was six. Whenever he got bored he grabbed Molly, and they had officially done it in every room of the house. The hall, the stairs, that one time on the back porch he'd snuck under Molly's skirt.  
Between all of the sex they were having Molly was painting, and ordering things, and making her home, her home. She'd looked into jobs in the area, and the town pathologist/sometimes doctor was going to retire in a few months, and Molly had gotten herself on top of a very short list (consisting only of Molly) for the position. Molly suggested Sherlock look into getting a small job, for which he was very confused.  
"But why? What, what would I do?"  
"I don't know. Do you have any degrees?"  
"Well yes, in science-"  
"Maybe the school has a-" Molly stopped herself, just picturing Sherlock trying to teach kids science. She didn't know which was funnier young kiddies or teens.  
Sherlock just gave her a look before they both started laughing.

Molly was redoing the empty bedroom, painting over the horrible orange color, which still shone through slightly and she'd painted it three bloody damn times. She couldn't decide what she wanted to make of it though. She was standing with a paint brush in her hand, just staring at the horrible tint of orange showing through when Sherlock finally came down from the attic. He'd been in their making a map of known people in Moriaty's web.  
He was leaning in the doorway when he finally spoke. "It could be.. Um. "He coughed to clear his throat. "A baby's room."  
"What?" Molly asked, her voice higher than normal.  
"Molly, I know you. Don't think I haven't realised what you've been thinking for ages now." He was looking down as he spoke.  
"But I've never told a soul, never done anything about it, how could you possibly deduce that?" She put the paint brush down.  
"First time I noticed was the case with kids, 'Hansel and Gretel'. They way you reacted when I told you about them. I started picking up on more after that. You have a considerable amount of funds in the bank, before my money, yet you live in an apartment far under your pay grade. Clear signs of a woman with a plan, a plan for house purchase, house purchasing most of the time equals family starting. Also at the shops you always gaze a little to long at the baby things."  
"Yeah, well." Molly turned around, suddenly unable to look at Sherlock, she decided gazing out at the back yard through the window was better. Sherlock couldn't want kids. He would grow bored of her soon, she knew it in her heart he would, and she couldn't waist her time with someone who-  
"Molly- Um, I've never, I've never exactly thought I was able to have a... Normal life. I never thought anyone could ever think of me like that. I want you to know, that I'll always be in your life, even if you don't want me to be with you, like that, I'll always protect you."  
"I-- Sherlock, I know you don't want that, you don't have to fake it, I know you'd never want to have kids with me, to be married, and to be ordinary forever, lets just face it, I'm just something for you to get distracted by. Once you learn I'm nothing-"  
"Do not ever say your nothing to me again." He strided toward her, inches from her face in seconds. "You're the most important person to me. What will it take for you to understand how much you mean to me? How wonderful and brilliant you are?"  
"You'd want to have a family with me?" He smiled slightly.  
"Some kids aren't so bad. Theres a chance it'd be like me you know. And if it wasn't, it'd be like you, and that's even better. That doesn't matter though, going to happen anyway." His smiled turned into a full blown grin, that made his skin crinkle, and his eyes sparkle.  
"What? What do you mean?" Her breaths grew quicker, as her palms started to sweat.  
"Keep in mind that I just told you, you were brilliant, but darling you've been a bit daft." He kissed her nose. "Have you been taking your pills lately?"  
After the shock of it all had passed her, Molly was so happy, she couldn't even begin to form words. So she started to cry."We should go get a test to confirm. Oh ohh stop that, please. Don't, don't do that. " Sherlock got on his knees as Molly sank onto the floor.  
"Test, test, we should get a test." Molly mumbled, wiping her face harshly before she pulled Sherlock in for a hug. She held him with all of her might, he fell on top of her.  
"Molly." He said a little out of breath. "Molly if you're not, if I'm wrong, we'll try. I just want you to be happy."  
She nodded against his neck, and whispered. "Thank you. Thank you Sherlock Holmes."

Seven tests later Molly was confirmed to be pregnant, and she was hopping with happiness. She jumped on Sherlock, legs around his waist as he sat on the couch. "I'm quite shocked you were able to pee the much for seven tests." She laughed, hard, at his very serious face. "Although pregnancy is supposed to increase-"  
"Shh. Just shhush." She kissed him, over and over, until his arms coiled around her waist. She pulled back, and looked him over. "You are happy with this, aren't you?"  
"Of course. My mother has been saying she's going to die without grandkids for six Christmas's now."  
"Does your mother and father know your-?"  
"Of course. I wouldn't let mummy go through that." Molly smiled. He still called her mummy. "What? Why are you smiling like that?"  
Molly's mobile rang before she could answer it, she plucked it from the side table and looked at the ID. ** _Greg Lestrade._** "Eek. Should I?'  
"Wouldn't you if I wasn't here?"  
Molly winced, and clicked the green button. "This is Molly."

  
**_"Hello Molly, this is Greg. I was just, well I've got a bit of issue. With John, see he still- he thinks Sherlock isn't dead. Anderson, one of my detectives also thinks he isn't dead. I know this is horrible, I shouldn't even be asking this for Christs sake, but maybe you could come to London, and have a chat? Atleast with John?"_ **

  
"Um.. Maybe I could pop in.. I haven't heard from John since, well since the funeral. Greg he's, " She glanced up at Sherlock as she spoke. "He's gone. I wish I could change that, you have no idea how much I want him here right now, but he's gone. Tell that to your detective. I'm a bit out of London now, I'll have to schedule.."

  
**_"Of course. I know Molly. I know... On other areas, the wife and I are no longer together. It's official, has been done for me for a year now. Maybe when your in town we go for a drink?"_ **

  
Molly winced, Sherlocks eyes narrowed.

"Um.. Its.. It's to soon for me Greg, I'm not interested in anyone at the moment." 'Make it clear.' Sherlock mouthed, his eyes lighting with anger. "And I see you as more of a friend.."

  
**_"Oh, thats fine Molly. I get it. Its okay. If ya ever change your mind, you know where to find me. Kay?"_ **

  
"Yep. Okay. I have to go. Have a good night."

"You too. 'night." Molly clicked end, and Sherlock had her pinned on the couch.

  
"Greg wants to go for drinks, eh?"  
"John thinks your alive." Molly whispered. All of the air, and jealousy left Sherlock as he gently collapsed on top of her.  
"I can't tell him. He can't know. "  
"I know." Molly whispered. "I have to talk to him."  
"You do. Please.. You have to- I don't know, "  
"Shh. I know." Molly whispered. He nodded into her chest.  
He pulled up, and looked her in the eyes. "I have to get it done, Molly. I have to leave early. I refuse to miss the birth of our child, I refuse to miss a moment of its life. I have to be fast, be quick and get everything done before it's time. I refuse to let John carry on anymore than necessary. "  
Molly nodded. "I know."  
"Do you know everything then?" Sherlock asked, eyebrows raised.  
"No. But I know you, a bit." He smiled at her. "How? How will you end this? I thought you needed to be-  
"With all the coverage of my death it should be fine. Everyone thinks it besides Anderson I guess. Never would have thought that from him. "He shook his head before he carried on. "I'll have to work more heavily with Mycroft. Should be fun." His face looked pained as he said it, she couldn't help but giggle.  
"Can you make a promise Sherlock?"  
"If it's possible for the outcome-" She put a finger over his lips.  
"Promise me you'll do all in your power to _actually come back._ I didn't like your first funeral, I don't want to go to another." He looked down, and nodded his head quickly, before pressing his face back into Molly's chest.  
"I promise I'll come back. Promise me something, will you?"  
"Of course."  
"Be here when I do."  
She kissed his forehead. "I'll be here, promise."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The week before a goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would of been longer, but my computer deleted things, and I got to frustrated to rewrite. So I'll post another chapter very very soon. Like early this morning, meaning three am or something. :)

Sherlock decided he would leave next week, and was working out all of the details with Mycroft in the attic. Molly didn't know whether or not she should call John with him in the room. Would it be to hard for him? Molly thought. Before she could decide Sherlock was bounding down the staircase by the back door in the kitchen, where Molly was standing beginning to boil water.   
"Everythings sorted I suppose then?" Molly asked.  
"Yes, Yes. Everythings done. Here." He handed her a small black notebook with SH imprinted into the leather. "Inside you'll find everything about me, my financials, the ones that weren't in my ''account'', my medical history, the phone numbers of my parents, Mycroft's, and the cellphone I'll be using while I'm working. I've told my mother your pregnant, also I've given her the home phone number. "  
"So your mum's going to call me?" Molly asked. "You have more money? Should I know about anything in your medical history?"   
"She will. She'll want to know you. Yes, my family money thats still in bonds. No. Never had anything serious, unless you count being a sociopath a health risk to the baby."  
"You know, "Molly moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I don't believe that. I know you care. Sociopath's don't care about anything. If that was true then saying you love me would be a lie. "  
He smiled softly leaning down towards her face. "Then what would you call me?"   
"Selectivly nice." He grinned and kissed her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, picking her up slightly so he wouldn't have to lean.  
She kissed him back greedily, before a sudden wave of something struck her. She pushed on him. "Move move." He let her down, a clearly hurt expression on his face, as she ran to the bathroom.  
Her stomach twisted and swirled as she hit her knees crouching by the toilet, and throwing up her morning tea and cookies. Sherlock, shocking Molly, pulled her hair gently out of her face, sitting beside her. Once Molly stopped, she rested her head on her arm, praying it was over.   
"Do you need a washcloth?" She nodded, and Sherlock rose, trying not to let her fall over since she was leaning against him. He quickly warming the cloth, and sat back down next to her, gently wiping her forehead.   
Molly took it from him, and wiped her mouth. "You don't have to be in here. " She was embarrassed. She hated throwing up.To be honest Molly guessed no one particularly liked throwing up, but she liked to think she hated it just a bit more than most.   
"Of course I do. It's my fault."   
"Sherlock I didn't throw up because you kissed me."  
He laughed. "Of course not! But was it not me who impregnated you?"  
Molly giggled, and couldn't stop as she nodded. "Oh Christ, I need to brush my teeth." Sherlock nodded, and jumped up, offering her his hands, which she took.  
As she brushed her teeth, he went into the living room, and Molly heard him switching songs on her iPod. She hurriedly finished, and swished around some mouthwash just as he settled on a song. It was one of the several Chopin pieces she had, one of her favorites, Nocturno.   
"May I have this dance?" Sherlock said, offering her his hand. Molly giggled.   
"I don't know how to dance." She wiggled her toes, her feet bare, and stared down at them.   
"Well, your very lucky I know how to dance very well. " He pulled her to his chest, taking one of her hands, his pale fingers covering her small one. His other on her waist, he began to guide her into a slow waltz.   
She looked down at her feet, Sherlock made a sound. "No, look at me. Into my eyes, and follow me. Listen to the music, move your feet with- There you go! See it's not so hard." Molly was getting the hang of, and trying not to let herself become to nervous.   
"Wouldn't of thought you the dancing type." Molly mumbled.  
"I'll tell you a secret, " He leaned down, lips against her ear. "I love dancing." His breath tickled her ear, and his voice sent a different type of shiver through her.   
He kissed her neck, before spinning her, and pulling her tight to his chest. She giggled and held on to him. They danced for so long, Molly's feet started to hurt, but she was getting better. She also learned that maybe she wouldn't mind dancing anymore, if it was with him.   
"Molly." Sherlock whispered, as they slowed down, just holding each other. "Molly, my birthday's January sixth, I'm thirty six, I'm six foot even. My middle name is William. I fell in love with you, when I didn't believe in love. I've been with other people, to many for me to say, nothing but physical, I've been addicted to many things. The thrill of danger, drugs, sex, knowledge. You were like cigarettes, no matter how I tried to leave you alone I kept coming back to you. Now your more, you Molly. My Patholgist." Molly leaned back, looking him in the eyes as she held on to his shoulders. "I never thought much, of marriage. It's just a piece of paper, and an old tradition that people put too much value on. But I can't get the thought of you having my last name out of my head. "  
Molly had a strange urge to pinch herself, or maybe slap herself would be better.   
"Sherlock- Are _you_ , **_are you_**?"  
"Molly Hooper, one day, would you care having your name changed?"  
"Marriage right, not just- "  
Sherlock laughed. "Yes. Marriage. All thought I don't know how I feel about receptions- I don't have many friends-"  
Molly kissed him, and kissed him hard at that. "No. No. I wouldn't mind at all Sherlock."

Sherlock and Molly spent most of the remainder of the week Sherlock had in bed. If they weren't in bed, they wore little clothes, and seemed to be always holding onto one another. The time passed far to quickly, and before they knew it they were both on the tube.  
Molly was going to London, to check on John, and Sherlock was headed to undisclosed location to meet Mycroft. They held hands tightly.   
"I'll call, if I can't I'll text. If it's been more than three days contact Mycroft. He'll let you know whats going on, os his assistant will."He sighed. " I'll tell him about you."  
"You haven't told him about me?"  
"Oh you should have heard what he said about John. I just didn't want to have to murder him." Molly smiled. "Oh, my mother told me to tell you apparently I was a rather large baby. As a warning or something like that. She also wants to shopping with you, I think she's in London today. Call her mobile once your-"  
"A rather large baby?" Molly's mind began to panic. Sherlock laughed.  
"Yes. Sorry."  
"Do you think your mother will-  
"She'll love you." He smiled and kissed her forehead. "Make sure John-  
"I know. Are you sure you don't want me too-" Molly wanted to tell John, tell him he was okay, and he'd be back, that he would just have to be away for a bit longer.  
"No. I don't know if he's being watched. His behavior cannot be changed." Molly nodded.  
The train stopped, and Molly was forced to get up. "I love you." Molly said, smiling slightly.  
"I love you." His voice was just above a whisper. She kissed him, one more time, quickly. If it was to long it would seem like a goodbye, and Molly didn't want to break down in tears in the middle of the underground.   
She forced herself to quickly get off, and onto the platform, she looked back at him. He smiled, and winked.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock has to leave, and Molly has to take care John.

Molly found her way to Baker St with only one stop to a shop to rush into the lady's room to throw up her small breakfast. She felt another swell of nausea as she approached the door of 221 B. She raised her hand and lifted the knocker a few times. It was a good few moments before the door swung open to reveal Mrs. Hudson, the land lady.  
"Molly! What's brought you by? Come on in." Molly walked into the hall as the woman waved her hands.  
"Oh, I'm in for some shopping, and I'd thought I'd pop in, check on John." She bit her lip, and looked up the stairwell.  
"Oh.. Dear.. He's not here. He's moved out to a single flat somewhere. He doesn't call.. Haven't seen him since... since the funeral." She looked down. "Its not good, when your partner leaves you-"  
"Martha." Molly breathed smiling. "John and Sherlock weren't partner's, they weren't a couple. They were friends."  
"Oh live and let love is what I say. Do you want a cuppa?" She let it drop and nodded, walking to her flat that was under Sherlocks.  
She sat at her table and waited as she poured the tea. "How do you take it dear?"  
"Splash of cream and sugar." She left the cream and sugar on the table close to Molly and sat on the side opposite her.  
"How have you been?"  
"Oh.. Good as one can expect."  
"You moved, to far. Not that I saw you much.."  
"It's a small town, good town. I'll visit, if you like. You know I never gave you my number did I?"  
"No you didn't! I would love to have a girlfriend again. All of mine are.. their sort of bitches dear. Sherlock told me they-" She broke off, and looked away, pulling out a cloth and wiping at her eyes.  
"Ma'am-"  
"I never had any kids you know. I know he wasn't mine, but it still hurts." Molly nodded.  
"I know.. Loosing Sherlock.. "  
"I shouldn't be going on about him.. I know you-"  
"Fancied him far too much?" She smiled at the older woman.  
"How couldn't anyone not fall for him. He was an ass, but he was pretty. " Molly laughed, and nodded her head in agreement. Her stomach was in knots, and it hurt her to laugh though. Her hands found her way to cradle her belly and she winced. "You okay?"  
"Yes. Fine. Bit of a flu I think." She knew she would have to share the news at some point, but she rather not fake it about some guy or say she was artificially inseminated until she had too.  
They talked for a bit more, before Molly asked if she knew were John lived. She gave her an address to the less expensive side of London, and she called a taxi. She hugged Mrs. Hudson, and was on her way to John's new place, hoping he wasn't working.  
It wasn't the greatest place a reminded Molly a bit like her old flat. Small, a little worse for wear but the people were nice. Molly didn't know about the last one, though. She had to climb to flights of stairs since the lift was broken, to finally find John's door. She knocked gently.  
With no answer for over two minutes she knocked harder, and several times. Still no answer. She pushed her ear against the door, she could faintly here telly on the other side. "John? John Watson? It's Molly Hooper. Open up."  
She heard scuttling of feet, and a few cuss words before the door ripped open. "What? What do you want?" John's chest was puffed out, he was breathing having, his hair was a mess, and he was looking at the ground. He was dressed, but her closed looked slept it. He was a wreck and Molly felt like a horrible person.  
"John I just want-  
"What? Tell me he is dead, like Greg keeps going on, he called you right? Listen, I don't want your help. I'm moving on. I don't care anymore, if he dead, he's dead. If he's not I'll put him in the ground when he comes back. "  
"John.." Molly tried to tell him with her eyes, pleading with him to understand. Just try to move on John, understand he's okay, please be okay. "I just wanted to help you." She suddenly wanted to be anywhere but there, so she turned and began to run off when she heard him call.  
"Wait. Wait. Come back." She turned, and walked a few paces towards him, still several feet were between them. John was on edge, and she knew he wouldn't hurt her, but she still wanted to stay away from him. He reeked of whiskey. "Please, just tell me one thing, you have to be honest, if you not or you can't just walk away. No. That'd be telling too much wouldn't? I'm going bloody crazy Molly. " He pulled at his hair. "I need help." John sort of fell against the door frame, and she was running to him.  
She wrapped him in a hug, and pulled him inside his flat.  
"I'm a good listener, ya know. But maybe you should start seeing your therapist again? It might help. " They had found there wait to his couch and had been sitting in silence for a few moments."We have to find a way to cope with him not around." Molly was careful to not say he was dead.  
John rubbed at his eyes and leaned back on the couch. "I'm rubbish at all this. I know I need to get on with my life. I haven't even asked you how you're doing. He was a git you know. For never- You're a wonderful person Molly. He would have been lucky-"  
"I'm okay. I really am.. I like Wells... "  
"It's horrible isn't it?'  
Molly laughed. "It really is dull, but it's not so bad. Good area. Good people."  
"You, you thinking of settling down or?" He let the question hang, eyebrows high. "You never said why you moved."  
"I needed a new start. And it's more of the or.. I'm sort of pregnant. Well full blown pregnant, I've puked three times today." There was no use in lying to John, he'd notice at some point, he was a doctor after all.  
"Oh. Oh my, congrats Molly. I didn't know you- Well I guess I never- you you going to do it on your own?" He was stumbling all over himself and instantly having better posture.  
"Yeah. Just me." She nodded uncomfortably, and looked at her hands. "Listen how about we meet up a couple of times a month?"  
"Molly you don't have to baby me, you're going to have one soon enough. I'll be fine. How far along are you?" John squinted and looked at her stomach."Not- Not three months?" It had been three months since Sherlock had 'died'.  
"No. About a month. I had it.. planned for a while.." It wasn't exactly a lie, Molly had planned for a baby, just not this way or this soon.  
He nodded. "Do you have a doctor?"  
"Yes. I haven't seen him yet.. How about this, you be my doctor, then we go for lunch or dinner or something on appointment days. "  
"You could manage that, coming into the city just to-"  
"Your really the only doctor I trust completly."  
"Well, okay then." John looked down, scooting to the edge of the couch hands clasped.  
"You need to clean. Stop drinking too."He turned and looked at her wide eyed. "Yeah, telling you what to do. You just have to keep going, things will be.. better. Soon." Molly tapped Johns knee gently before standing up stopping him from asking a question. "I have to go shopping with a friend. Baby stuff. I'm really not prepared as I should be. Text me or something, really. Call Mrs Hudson your worrying her sick."  
Molly left his flat before he could get in another word, she may have said too much, but she prayed John would listen to her advice. It worried her to see him like this. He was always so put together. She sighed, checking the time on her watch. Half past noon. She still had time for lunch with Mrs. Holmes.  
She called the number Sherlock had given her as soon as she was on the sidewalk, waving her arm for a cab. "Ello?" A warm voice asked after four rings.  
"Hello, this is Molly Hooper." Molly got into the cab.  
"Ohh! How lovely dear, Sherlock said you were in London? Where do you want to meet?"  
Molly told both Mrs. Holmes and the cabbie a local shop she had found online for baby things. It didn't take long for both women to arrive, Mrs. Holmes before Molly. The white haired woman was looking around anxiously, fiddling with her red scarf. She dressed like Sherlock, she noticed. Coat collar turned up, scarf tied nearly the same way.  
"Mrs Holmes?" Molly said, belly full of nerves and her sons baby.  
"Molly? Yes, I saw you at the funeral. I do hope all this business is done before the babies here! Oh come here, give me a hug." The woman wrapped her arms around her before she could move an inch, and Molly giggled as she hugged her back.  
"It's lovely to meet you ma'am."  
"Oh dear, call me Wanda, would you?" Molly nodded.  
"Okay." Molly phone beeped. "Oh let me check this real-"  
 _ **There's a great Italian directly across from you. SH**_  
 _ **Thank you. Your mother is wonderful.**_  
"Apprently there's a great Italian restaurant over there."  
"Is that-?" She didn't say his name as a person walked by, Molly merely nodded. "Well then, let's go. Then we can go looking for baby things. Cloths will have to wait till we find out what you're having. I bet you're having a boy. I've only got boys myself, and it runs in the Holmes blood. Boys. " They crossed the street quickly, and got a table by the window.  
"Have you thought of names?" Wanda asked as she looked over the menu.  
"Oh. A little bit. "  
"William Sherlock Scott." She mumbled low enough for her to here.  
"Hmm?"  
"That's his full name."  
"He told me his middle was-" Molly's eyebrows were nearly to her hairline.  
"Oh he just likes to think that. He wanted to have a clever name like Mycroft. " She smiled and glanced up at her.  
"I've always liked the name William." Molly said with a smile.  
"I never thought he would find someone, you know. For the longest time I thought he was.. That he fancied boys, there wouldn't be anything wrong with that either. I just didn't want him to be alone. But he never brought anyone home. All the kids picked on them. Both my boys. Then in university.. Well you might know a bit. I think he thought he'd find people like him.. Oh I'm just so glad he's not alone anymore!" She tossed down the menu, reaching across the table to hold Molly's hand.  
"Theres no one like him, and theres nothing wrong with that. He's brilliant, a bit of an ass sometimes I will admit it, but he's brilliant, and kinder than most think. I love him.. As long as he wants me, I promise he won't be alone."  
"Hello, may I take your order ladies?"  
"Oh! Yes yes I'll have the chicken fettachini." Wanda answered quickly.  
"And I'll have the same." Molly answered just to have something to say. She didn't read a bit of the menu.  
With the ice broken, Molly and Mrs Holmes got on rather well. After their lunch full of twenty questions about each other they walked over to the baby shop and picked out some gender neutral onesies, socks, a few white blankets. To a larger purchase by Mrs Holmes as a gift to Molly. A stunning black crib to be delivered, and a matching rocker.  
"You can get blankets later, once you know for sure if your having William or? Hmm.. You know we didn't talk about girl names."  
"I didn't say for sure about William either." Molly smiled, and looked at a teeny tiny pair of trainers.  
"Yes but you thought it."  
"I like Elizabeth, Samantha, and Claire as girl names." Molly said looking up into the startingly similar blue eyes of the Holmes mother.  
"Samantha Elizabeth would work well together, but you wont have to worry about that. It's a boy." She nodded and wiggled a little blue jumper in the air causing Molly to laugh.  
"William Benedict, perhaps." Molly said after she stopped giggling.  
"That's nice, very nice. I like that. "  
"Don't say anything to- I want it to be a surprise when he's back. See what he thinks." Molly decided to get the teeny trainers, carrying them to the counter of the third shop they had stopped at.  
Wanda pushed the blue jumper on the counter next to them. "Why don't you come back to the house with me, meet Timothy. He'll love you."  
"Oh-"  
"No, of course not. You need rest. Promise me you'll come by soon?"  
"Of course. You can come over too you know." Molly paid the checker, and began to walk towards the door.  
"I'd like that. I could help you with the nursery. If you want."  
Molly smiled and nodded. "That would be lovely. I do think I should head home though. I'm tired, and my cat is home alone."  
"Okay honey. Call if you need me. " They hugged quickly, and Molly got a good grip on her bags as she hailed a cab, and headed for the tube, and the long way back home.

It was late when Molly got home, and she was tired. She was thankful for that because as soon as she go home, and tossed the bags on the table she felt so terribly alone. It was strange to feel like that, since not long ago she was very happy to come home to an empty house with just Toby. Beep beep.  
Her phone rang as slipped off her jacket and shoes.  
 ** _Welcome home. SH_**  
 ** _How are you doing that??_**  
 ** _If I told you, you might get angry. SH_**  
 ** _I won't._**  
 ** _Tracking in your mobile. SH_**  
 ** _Bad boy._**  
 ** _Horrible. SH_**  
 ** _I miss you. SH_**  
 ** _I miss you too_**  
 ** _I dont have long. I love you, I'll call you tomorrow. Promise. SH_**  
 ** _Love you. Be safe._**


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly's pregnancy.

Molly had read just about every article and guide on the internet for what to expect when your pregnant by the time she'd finally got in to see John for her appointment. She'd also set up the crib, cried on Sherlock's bed three times, cleaned the house from top to bottom, twice, and started to take up light jogging. It had only been a week, yet she was loosing it. She yelled at herself internally as she walked up the steps of John's office. She was stronger than this.

  
She told the receptionist her name, and sat down to wait. Sherlock had called, but it never lasted long enough a few words, some quick vague updates. Then he had to go.

"Margaret Hooper?" The girl called, and making Molly wince.   
She hated that name. Maybe it was because she was only ever called it when she was in trouble. She stood and followed her. John sat on a rolling chair by the exam bed.   
"Hello Molly. How are you feeling?" He was dressed nice, but wore no lab coat. The entire office was informal, and cozy, and made her feel twenty times better about being in a doctor's office.   
"Okay, everything seems to be going normally. Nausous in the mornings, meaning four am. " She let out a small laugh. "Eggs freak me out now apparently."   
"Eggs?" John smiled at her.   
"Yeah I cracked one and got sick at the sight of it. Haven't tried again."  
"That'll be happening more, with aloft of things. Alright, so down to business. When was your last menstraul cycle?"   
"Six weeks 3 days." Molly had prepared.   
"Sorry but have you ever been-  
"Nope, first time ever."  
"Of course your not smoking or drinking?"  
"Of course."  
"Any big issues in your family?"  
"My mother died in child birth. I'm not sure of why, my father didn't talk about it. " Molly rubbed her hands. John nodded understandingly.   
"Well then, we're going to have to be very careful with everything. Did she have a natural birth or c-section?"  
"I believe it was natural."  
"When the time comes then, might consider c-section. Depending on how well you're doing." He smiled and stood up, pulling out his cuff to take her blood pressure.  
Thus begun the tests. Molly had to suffer with getting her blood drawn (she hated needles), peeing in a cup, and finally the dreaded moment when John said. "Um, I'm really sorry but have you had a pap-"  
"I had one four months ago is that okay?"  
"Yes. Perfectly." They didn't make eye contact for a moment before Molly suddenly busted out laughing."What?" John asked.  
"It's just funny. I want you to deliver my baby but I'm uncomfortable with you doing a pelvic exam. "  
He giggled before he straightened him self up abruptly as the nurse walked in. "Dr. Watson your last appointment of the day just canceled, do you mind if I go home early?"  
"No no, of course. Have a good day Mary." He smiled at the short blonde woman. She was pretty, Molly noticed, and John did that thing boys do. The little twinkle eyed look, and nervous foot tap.  
"She's cute." Molly said wiggling her eyebrows at him after she was gone.   
He nodded, "She's not only a receptionist, she's a nurse. She'll be helping me when it's time." He smile. "So, you ready for lunch?"

The weeks flew by, and Molly got used to the new schedule. She started working at the local morgue, made a few small talk friends, chatted with Mrs Hudson on the phone three times a week. Had dinners at the Holmes, but never with Mycroft, and Mrs Holmes had spent the night with Molly a couple of times. It was strange, having a mother figure in her life. She liked it an awful lot though.   
She called John more and more frequently, he never asked about Sherlock again. If he was moving on, or taking her slight hint as a ray of hope, she didn't know. They talked about anything, and everything. There past's, John's sister, Molly's extended family who she hadn't told she was pregnant yet. Why John had enlisted to the latest episode of Game of Thrones. She rather liked John Watson, and didn't understand why she pursue a deeper friendship with him earlier.   
Molly's stomach was slowly growing as she was now twenty one weeks pregnant. She took her vitamins regularly, ate spicy foods like it was the only thing to eat, and still got terribly sick at the sight or smell of eggs. Today was Molly's first appointment to see the first guess at a gender. Molly sent a text to Sherlock. She hadn't heard his voice in three days, but he had been texting her.   
Every week it was different number. He had to be careful he said. It just made Molly worry more, that contacting her was a risk to him. She couldn't stop being so selfish though, she had to talk to him. Now that she had experienced it, she would never be able to let it go.  
 **Big day today.**   
She looked out the window of the cab as she waited for a reply.  
 ** _Don't tell me. Not yet. SH_**  
 **Your not curious?**  
 ** _Terribly. Just don't, not yet. Please. SH_**  
 **Okay. How are you?**  
 ** _Trying not to get shot, other than that, lovely. Weather's nice. SH_**  
 **Stop texting me then!**   
Molly began to have a minor panic attack. She slowed her breathing, a hand over her heart. Less than three minutes later, she got another text alert.  
 ** _Case closed. SH_**  
 **Was it interesting?**   
Molly smiled, and chastised herself for not trusting him. She couldn't do anything, there was no use in getting worked up. It would just make her, and the baby upset.  
 _ **As interesting as a plot against a government can be. SH**_  
 **I'm nearly there, i'll ttyl, call me tonight?**  
 _ **I'll try, MH is currently prattling on about something. Dont let John get too touchy. SH**_  
 **Your loony.** Molly smiled, paid the driver, and stepped out onto the curb.  
 _ **Well, it and you, are mine. You know. ttyl SH**_  
She smiled wider and shoved her phone in her purse. Taking a deep breath, she walked inside. "Hello Mary, how are you doing today?"  
"Oh, good. Been a busy morning, John's in a bit of a mood too." Mary wrinkled her nose and Molly winced. "You can go on back, no one's there."   
Mary and John were dating, and it was adorable. Molly hoped they would go far together.   
"Wish me luck." She mumbled as she walked down the short hall, and opened his office door. Finding John staring at a file, and everything already set up next to the exam table.   
"Hey Mols. Ready to be able to pick colors?" He smiled up at her sat the file down.   
Molly felt an overwhelming urge to walk out the door. She wasn't ready. Wasn't ready at all. She didn't know what she wanted. She just wanted it to be healthy and chubby and cute, and hers. But at the same time she was terrified she'd mess things up. She wasn't that great with living humans, sure she could chit chat sometimes, but deal with them twenty four seven? She supposed she sort of had experience with Sherlock. He was a big baby sometimes.   
Molly had a sudden vision. Of a blue eyed baby girl with black bouncy curls and the first words of murder coming from her tiny lips.   
"Nervous are we?" John was standing in front of her now.   
"A tad bit, yeah." She took off her jacket, and sat down her purse before she sat on the table.   
She curled her fingers around her exposed baby bump as John got his gloves on, and tried to make the jelly warmer. She moved her hands so he place it on her before he pressed the transducer against her belly. She'd already heard the babies heartbeat before, but it didn't stop the tear rolling down her cheek when the _thump thump_ started. She bit her lip as she tried to decifer the screen herself.   
"Hmmm." John mumbled. "Little closer." He told him self as he enhanced the screen a bit. "There we go!"  
Molly squinted. "It's a boy. Isn't it?"  
"Yep! A boy, a very healthy big boy. Are you sure your only twenty one weeks, he looks a bit bigger. Maybe he's just a fast grower." Molly smiled. To be honest it could be anytime, Sherlock and her had been shagging quite a bit, but that wasn't the reason she smiled. Oh, my mother told me to tell you apparently I was a rather large baby.   
"No. No. Only time. He's just big then." Molly grinned, wiping the tears in her eyes. "I guess it's blue, and William then." John grinned at her.   
"Let me print this out for you then, of course you'll want a couple of copies?" She nodded.   
Molly wiped off the lubricant as John went over to his computer, setting the copies and waiting for it to print. She rebuttoned her pants, and pushed down her shirt.   
"How has your day been?" Molly asked.  
"Terrible. I had to see Danny, the biter, and Charles. He thought he had some sort of flesh eating disease this time."   
She winced. "Sounds like fun." She said sarcastically.  
"Any interesting deaths for you?"   
"Ugh. Nothing. I feel terrible for wishing for something interesting." John chuckled at her, and pulled out the finished printouts.   
"We should celebrate. You should come over to Mary and mines."  
"That'd be nice. " John and Mary had moved in together last week. He stood, walking over to her, sitting on the stool in front of her again.  
"Invite Mrs. Hudson, and Greg too. He's came over yesterday.. " He handed her the print outs, and Molly traced her finger over the outline of her little boys face. "He.. He gave me his birthday message. Remember he didn't show up for the party?"   
"Oh.. " Molly knew exactly who he was talking about, and put the pictures in her purse. "Are you-"  
"I'm good yeah. Really. So, let's go. As always your my last, and most looked forward to patient. You hungry? Mary makes great food." He stood quickly, pushing the rolling stool to the side of the room and trying not to trip.   
Molly stared at him a moment, before standing and pulling back on her jacket which was becoming to tight to zip. She silently prayed that Sherlock be done soon, so she wouldn't have to keep lying to John. She wondered, would John even talk to her anymore knowing that she knew all this time?

Since it was Friday Molly wound up staying the night at Mary and John's. Mrs Hudson and Greg did indeed come over, and Mary was, just like John had said, a fantastic cook. Molly liked her, a lot. She had chatted with her a few times, always wanting to get to know her more. Hopefully now they'd go out together or something. She didn't mind that John was friends with Molly either. Some girls would have gotten offended if their boyfriends talked to other girls as much as she and John did.   
Greg had been hitting on her the instant he walked through the door, but to her glee he stopped hitting on her as soon as she said. "I'm not fat by the way, I'm pregnant." To say he was shocked was an understatement. She had already told Mrs. Hudson who had giggled far too much at Greg's face and took another sip of wine.   
Molly was laying on the pullout couch late that night when her phone beeped. She peered around, making sure John or Mary weren't in the kitchen. Thankfully they were in their bedroom, door shut.   
**_Where are you? SH_**  
 **John and Mary's. It got to late to go home.**  
 ** _He's still with her? SH_**  
 **Yes, they are a good couple.**  
 _ **Can you talk? SH**_  
 **Give me a sec.**  
Molly eased herself out of the covers, and padded her way to the farthest place from their bedroom, the bathroom. She turned the tap on, and sat on the edge of the tub. Molly clicked call, and Sherlock answered in the middle of the first ring.   
"Molly." She could hear the smile in his voice, and boy had she missed it.  
"Hey." She couldn't risk saying his name, she was to paranoid.  
"I have an estimate on how long I'm going to be, I have two more cases. Two more big ones, and then the lows will all be Mycrofts to throw into jail." Molly's heart raced.   
"How long?"   
"Two more months. "  
"So you'll be here before-"  
"Before your going into labor, of course. I have to be there to make sure everything is happening properly-"  
"You don't trust John?"  
"Of course, with my life but-"  
"Not with your babies?" Molly smiled a school girls smile, and her toes curled. He valued his child's life more than his own.   
"I do too." His voiced had a whiny edge to it.   
Molly giggled. "Seriously though, John's a wonderful doctor."  
"I know. What I said about the gender.. You can tell me now.. "  
"Nope. You said when you were here. Your gonna have to get here quicker if it bothers you enough." She grinned.  
"You're a terrible woman. " His voice dropped deeper, and he let out an audible whine after his words.   
"Where are you right now?"  
"An abandoned building in America."   
"How long do you have to talk?"  
"A few more minutes. Tell me, what are your name ideas. Mother wouldn't tell me." He sounded like an angry five year old upset because his Mummy wouldn't let him have a cookie.  
"Well.. Girl name, Samantha Elizabeth. Boy name. William Benedict."   
"William?" His voice was low. "You want to name him after me?"  
"You don't know it's a him-"  
"Yes I do, you paused and your voice was higher. Ha."  
"Damn you. Yes, I want to name him after you." He was silent for a few moments.  
"I'll be quicker in getting home. I promise." She smiled, and realised she was crying. She wiped at her eyes. "I have to go now."  
"Okay."  
"I love you."   
"I love you."   
The next morning as Mary made breakfast, and Molly stood next to her eating grapes, John clicked it on the news.   
_"Sherlock Holmes, the detective proved innocent of all claimed crimes! Jim Moriaty's papers proved fraudulent. But sadly far to late for Holmes, who died over seven months ago. Who's death has been ruled as suicide. Was it caused from the Media? From Scotland yard-_ " John clicked off the tv, and stared at the black screen.

**Two months later.**   
Molly's stomach grew, and grew, and she could now balance a bowl on it. For some reason she was very excited about that. Mrs Holmes helped her finish the baby's room. She decided to go with classy, and black trim. The room looked a bit posh but Molly liked it. The day had been coming closer and closer, and Sherlock was set to come back in two days time. She was nervous. The last time he had seen her she was flat stomached (for the most part) and they had been having quite alot of sex. Molly didn't think she was very attractive these days. Her tummy was beautiful because it had her child in it, but that was all.   
She was sitting on the sofa a bowl of cereal resting on her stomach as she spooned it into her mouth as she marathoned Doctor Who with Toby by her side. She heard a sound in the kitchen, the gentle shutting of the back door. She clicked pause, and struggled to get up, placing her cereal on the side table. She tried to find a weapon of some kind before a very familiar face stood in the door way of the hall.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of smut in the end bit. :)

  
Molly squeaked and rushed towards him. He looked a little shellshocked at the sight of her, but she hugged him anyway. He groaned, wincing. "Sherlock?" Molly pulled back.   
"Little bit bruised." He was favouring his right leg, and his face twitched a bit when he took a deep breath. Bruised ribs, perhaps. Left leg injured for sure. Molly's mind kept going with different scenarios, and she kept getting more and more worried.   
"Sit sit, let me see." She pulled him to the couch, and he eased himself down gently, letting out a slight gasp as he fell back.   
"It's okay, it's already been looked at."  
"How-?"  
"Do you really want to know? It's over. I'll heal in time." Molly nodded, looking down as she stood in front of him, hands nervously circling around her belly. Her hair was messy, she was wearing sweats, and she was pretty sure she had a toothpaste stain on her top.He said two more days. She wasn't complaining, but she didn't want to look like this when he first saw her.   
She didn't see him shift, but suddenly he was leaning forward, and his hands where prying at hers, gently moving them from her stomach. She looked him in the eyes as he found her gaze, smiling in a boyish way. "Your so beautiful." He whispered, his hand cupping her cheek, and the other gently caressing her stomach. He ran his hand from her cheek, down her neck and shoulder, all the way to her belly were he lifted her shirt. He placed a gentle kiss on her once, twice, three times before he stood pulling her close to kiss her lips. "I never thought I'd want something like this." He said as he pulled away. His large hand was expanded over her belly just as Molly felt a sturdy kick from the little boy inside of her. He gasped, gazing down in complete wonder.   
Molly recognized the look. It was the look of an extremely exciting case, the brightness behind those amazing eyes, mouth slightly open, face full of expression. Molly didn't release she was crying until then either. She anxiously wiped away her tears. "He's saying hello." She whispered.   
"Hello." Sherlock said, voice breaking slightly. "William." He nudged against her again. Sherlock practically squeaked. He smiled up at her, kissing her quickly. "Your going to be brilliant. If your not, that's okay, I guess. But it's highly improbable. Still you could be like John. I wouldn't mind that. John's good. You'll be wonderful, I know it. " Both of Sherlock's hands were on Mollys belly as he was on his knees in front of her, talking to her belly. He looked a bit mad, and Molly couldn't help but giggle.  
"Who would have known, Sherlock Holmes, daddy material." He grinned up at her.   
"Sit down, it can't be good for you to be on your feet. Now that I'm here-"  
"I'm fine Sherlock."  
"Just let me take care of you. No. I'm taking care of you, no arguments." Molly sat down, and Sherlock crawled up beside her, head resting on her shoulder. "First, we rest a bit. Then we have to go make a visit to John."  
"Eeek." Molly winced at the thought.   
"How bad could it be?" Sherlock was still curled into her, long black jacket looking like a blanket as he stroked her belly in a wonderful way.   
"Oh, I don't know. I've just been lying to him for over ten months. You know, even when he's begged me to let him know something. I thought I gave him a slight hint once, but I think it flew past his head or something. He has Mary though. I have a feeling they are going to get engaged soon. "  
"What is she like?" Molly could here the annoyance in his voice. John's past girlfriends never took to well to Sherlock.   
"A female spunky John. She's his nurse, as you know. Pretty, funny, smart. I like her a lot. She's a good friend." She angled her head, trying to see Sherlock's face.   
"I don't know what I'll do if anyone makes a comment about you."   
"What do you mean?"  
"I'm not the best applicant- I.. Alot of people don't like me, and I don't want them not liking you because of me. Or judging him." His voice gradually got softer as he spoke. "If he's brilliant like me, even like Mycroft, I know what he'll be treated like in school. I don't want that. "  
"I've thought of that too. Accept that he may be a like me. Plain, stuttering, and hopelessly nerdy. My childhood was horrible."   
"Your far from plain, Molly Hooper." He moved so he could look her in the eyes.   
"You didn't see me when I was twelve." Molly said, eyebrows raised face completely serious.   
"You didn't see me then either. " Sherlock looked mildly horrified at the thought of her seeing him. She almost didn't have it in her to tell him his mother had shown her pictures of him at all stages. "Oh dear god. Mummy showed you didn't she?"   
Molly laughed so hard she thought she might pee a little, much to Sherlock alarm and amusement. They decided to wait till the morning to go see John, and spent the rest of the day holding each other in some way. While Molly cooked Sherlock's arms was around her waist, and his face resting on her shoulder, watching her every move. Molly didn't mind, she'd missed him far too much.   
That night, while they lay in bed they started kissing, and couldn't stop. Molly's body was in overdrive from all the hormone changes she was going through. Her hands were in his hair as she rolled him over so she was on top of him, causing him to groan.   
"Molly." He breathed. "Is this okay- to happen- ?"   
"Of course. I've been going crazy without you. Please." She moaned as she felt his erection against her. He gently rolled her over, kissing her neck greedily as he slipped the silky night gown up, only stopping to lift it over her shoulders. He left butterfly kisses all over her chest before he licked and sucked on her nipples, making her to moan loudly over how sensitive she was.   
She pawed at Sherlock's night shirt, causing him to release her nipple and fling the shirt off of himself. Molly gasped. He was bandaged and bruised. "You've been shot." Molly whispered, touching his side gently.   
"Shh. I'm fine, everything will heal." He kissed her sweetly, sucking on her bottom lip, and Molly's mind was fuzzy.   
He hooked his thumbs into her underwear, and pulled them down her legs. He kissed up them, first placing a kiss on her ankle, to her knee, to her smooth, now curvy, thighs that he loves so much. Her legs were spread for him, and he was delighted by how wet she was for him.   
He placed a gently kiss on her clitoris before Molly moaned loudly. "Sherlock, please, I need you." He groaned at the sound of her sweet voice saying those words.   
He crawled back up her body, hastily pullin down his pants, and guiding himself inside of her. She moaned, hands on his back as he moved inside of her. One of his hand was on her hip, the other holding himself up as he rested his was in the crook of his neck, whispering how much he loved her. She came quickly around him, and he couldn't hold on anymore as she tightened around him. He groaned loudly, nearly matching her. It had been far to long since he was with her like this.   
He eased of her, and pulled her close to him as they lay side by side. Molly pulled the blankets around them, grabbing a pillow to rest under her belly and snuggled into his chest happily. He chuckled slightly a the sight of her. She look like a contented cat, all curled in and sleepy. He stroked her hair as she fell asleep, and he soon followed her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's back, and the world will know soon, but for now Mrs. Hudson, and John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings.

 

"Alright. How is this going to work?" Molly asked as Sherlock buttoned his dark shirt. "We can't just pop on in, you may give him a heart attack or something."He smiled like she said something funny.  She chewed on her lip, and curving her around unknowingly around her belly. 

 

"Mycroft has been keeping tab's he's taking Mary to dinner at-"

"No. NO. Sherlock no. Not a public place." 

"But-"

"No."

Sherlock's bottom lip jutted out as he pouted. "Suppose you couldn't get him over to Baker st?"

 

"I could get him over to Mrs. Hudson's, maybe. You really should let her know as well."  Sherlock wrapped his arms around her. She was leaning in the doorway of the bathroom.

 

"Everyone's going to know. Didn't you hear? My names cleared." He smiled triumphantly, brilliant eyes sparkling.  

He suddenly went serious as he noticed her hands, as his hands found her baby bump. "Since.. you had full choice on William.. I was wondering.. what you thought of Johnathan as the middle?" Molly's mouth fell open a bit. She had thought of Benedict as the middle name, but William Johnathan Holmes had a certain ring to it. 

 

The corner of her mouth turned up. "I like that. I like that a lot." 

 

"Yeah well, John's middle is Hamish and no way is that happening." Molly giggled, and Sherlock gave her a swift peck. "Come on, give him a call."

 

They walked into the living room, and Molly grabbed her phone, giving Toby a head scratch on the way by. She clicked on John's picture, and the dial began.  It would be close to lunch time when they made it to Baker St, so hopefully he would believe her reasons justifiable. 

"Ello Molly." John greeted five rings later. 

"Hi. Um, I was wondering if you'd want to get lunch today with me? Mrs. Hudson wants us over, well she didn't say, but I thought it'd be nice if we'd pop in?" Molly winced at the slight nervous tickle in her voice. 

He let out a deep breath. "That'd be great. I.. I needed to go over there today anyway.. And I needed to talk to you." 

"About what? Is something wrong John?"

"No, no no. It's the opposite. I'll talk to you at Mrs. Hudson's. Have a safe trip, will you?" 

"Course. See you then." Sherlock was holding Toby, watching her. "Well then. Let's get going." 

 

"It'll be okay Molly. I won't let him be mad at you."  Molly bit her bottom lip, and looked down. 

"I hate lying. I know it was nesasarcy. I know, I really do, but I still feel like a-"

"You were only doing what I asked. Now come on." Toby slunk to the ground as Sherlock lowered him. He walked towards Molly and placed one of his large hands on her cheek. "We've got to get you bundle. Precious cargo." He kissed her lips gently, and Molly's head swam. 

 

It was insane. How he could do things to her like this. How he still could render her speechless. She struggled to get her voice back, but she broke away. "Well then. Let's go."

The trip into London was filled with 'deductions'. Sherlock attempting to teach Molly small things, but mainly just making her giggle with all the wildly embarrassing information he was telling her about her fellow tube passengers.  Molly could tell though, Sherlock was nervous. He was far to hyper. His knee kept hopping up and down, his eyes kept scanning.  She took his gloved hand , and gave it a gentle squeeze, his voice faltered for a beat, before he carried on. "There, that woman over that, you can tell by her knees-"

"Do I want to know what I can tell by her knees?"  Sherlock chuckled.

"I missed you." He said lower, leaning over and kissing her temple. 

 

They made their way to Baker St and it wasn't long before they were standing on the side walk, staring at the door.  "Do you want me to go in first?"

"That would probably be best." He stared at the door. "Just tell her not to panic." Molly nodded swiftly, before she let herself in, with Sherlock's key. 

"Mrs. Hudson!" She called, she heard a surprised yelp from within her apartment, and the taps of her feet. 

"Molly!" She cried happily, she still had a soapy pot in her hand."How'd you get it? Not that i'm not happy your here-"

"Mrs. Hudson, I'm going to need to you stay calm 'kay? Just please don't panic, and I'm sorry I couldn't tell you." 

"What are you-" She suddenly broke off, and Molly heard the door click shut behind her. 

Then she let out a scream, the pot dropped. And Sherlock panicked, quickly moving towards her.

"Mrs-"

"SHERLOCK!" She ran at him, wrapping her arms around him, and she let out a cry. Practically sobbing into his jacket. Sherlock looked a little loss for words, but Molly mined hugging her back, and he did. Smiling just slightly, panic still clear in his eyes.  She pulled back, and wiped at her eyes. "Your here, how? Sherlock- why? Why did  you do it?"

"I had to Mrs. Hudson, all that matter is that I'm back. Hope you didn't lease out the flat. I'll still need it." He looked to Molly and smiled. "Both rooms."

Molly was puzzled. He- Of course she knew he'd want to be closer to the city, for work.  Mrs. Hudson was looking between the too of them, before she let out a gasp. "So you really not gay?" 

Sherlock's eyes widened, and Molly laughed. "The baby, it's yours isn't it?" Sherlock looked down, red tingeing his cheeks." Ohhh! Oh my I'm so happy your back Sherlock." She hugged him a again swiftly. "I'll go get biscuits, and but on the kettle, you go upstairs. Oh! How did John take it?" She was at her door, staring back at us. 

 

"He doesn't know yet, he'll be over.. " Molly looked at her watch. "In maybe ten minutes."

Mrs. Hudson looked rather alarmed but she went into her flat swiftly.

 

Sherlock was walking up the stairs, and Molly hurried to follow, holding the rail for safety. She wasn't the greatest on her feet anymore. 

He opened his door, and took a breath, before coughing. "Heavens she didn't air it out at all did she. " He briskly walked to the window on the right, and opened it. Letting the chilly wind begin to air out the stuffy flat. 

"You want to move back." Molly said, a half question, half statement. She looked down at her hands. 

"Of course. More work here." He looked a bit nervous as Molly peaked up."It's suitable, the park isn't far, I know the back room isn't that big but we could fix it up nice. Or hire someone. I know you wanted small town life, and there no reason we couldn't have both, split the time-"

"Wait you want us both to- You want the baby here too?"

"Well of course." He gave her that look, that always angered her, the look that said. _Christ Molly you're so daft._ But in the moment she didn't care at all, her fear washed away, and Molly quick stepped her way to him, yanking on his jacket to give him a kiss. 

His hands found was to her hair tossing the pink knit hat away as he kissed her deeply. "Ohh!" Mrs. Hudson squeaked from the doorway. Molly pulled away, smiling, proudly at her as Sherlock turned a deep shade of red. He stumbled back, and sat in his chair was a sigh. "Oh it's wonderful, you back here, in your chair." She sat down the kettle and biscuits on the stand next to him as Sherlock smiled at her. 

Molly was the first to here John rapping on the door."He's here." Molly whispered, and Sherlock went still, staring at the door. 

Molly swiftly went down the stairs since Mrs. Hudson was shocked into stillness. Molly didn't know how exactly she moved so fast considering she was so top heavy, but she moved quickly nevertheless. She was breathless as she opened the door. "Hey. Took you long enough." John stumbled inside, rubbing his hands together from the cold.

He was smiling though, and he looked excited about something. "John- Um. "She shut the door. "Now I have something to tell you, something that I should have said a while ago. A long time ago. But I didn't have a choice in the matter. Please, please stay calm."

"Molly, what is it, whatever it is it's okay. Your worrying me." He reached for her arm. 

"John." Sherlock said. He was standing on the last rung of the stairs, directly behind John. The emotions crossing John's face were rapid, from shock, relief, sadness to anger. White hot rage as he turned slowly. 

Sherlocked stumbled, his mouth opening and closing several times before he let out a nervous little giggle. "Long story short. _Not dead_." He raised his hands as if to say **_ta da_** , and John lunged for him. 

And Molly screamed, "John no!" She knew Sherlock was sort of major tit for not telling John from his perspective, but she also knew Sherlock was already in pain both emotional, and physical.

But it was too late, Sherlock was already pressed against the railing and John was trying to choke the life out of him. Mrs. Hudson came rushing down and through a bowl of water on them. 

Five frustrating minutes later they were both sitting silently in their chairs. John staring a whole through Sherlock, and Molly standing between them, hands on her hips. 

"I _knew_ you knew something more." He broke his gaze from Sherlock, and stared at Molly. She sighed. 

"Don't speak to her in that tone." Sherlock's voice was shockingly hard as he spoke to his best mate. 

"Don't speak to her like that? You're the one bringing her into whatever mess this is that made you **FAKE YOUR DEATH**. Chirst Sherlock she's _pregnant._ And your dragging her about like this!" John stood, and so did Sherlock. 

"I **_knoww_** that. I'm the one that made her that way!" Sherlock yelled back at him. His hands raised and expression ridiculously childish. Nearly making Molly giggle. 

But the words seemed to not all the anger out of John as he fell back into his chair. He looked at Molly, then to Sherlock and back and forth. Before he broke into a huge smile. "My god." He let out a laugh. "Christ why were you so mean to her all the time if you-"

"Closeness get's people killed." Sherlock said softly, taking John aback a bit.

"Why you'd fake it?"

"Only way. Moriaty. Deeper connections than we thought." 

"Is it over now?" John asked.

Sherlock paused. "Yes. Yes it is. That's what has taken me so long to come back."

"Making sure people didn't get hurt." Molly added, to which Sherlock gave her a look. "Well christ Sherlock it's not so bad to show people you care once in a while. There was a hit, on Mrs. Hudson, Greg, and you. That among other reasons was why he did it. Now both of you apologize right now. My feet hurt, and I have to stop standing like this." Molly took a deep breath. 

"Why should I?" John asked shocked.

"Because you tried to kill him for real!" Molly glared at him, and John looked a bit frightened. She didn't notice, but Sherlock had gotten up and was now pushing her down into his chair gently.  And beginning to make her a cuppa. 

"I'm deeply sorry John but it was the only way." He said, as he stirred sugar into her cup, and handed it to her. 

 

"I'm sorry too." John mumbled, making Molly glare at him again. "And I guess I forgive you. I'm in a bit of shock though. You just made a person tea, and gave her your chair. "  He blinked a few times. "Oh, and _you had sex with her_. Enough to get her pregnant, and that's astounding in its self." 

"Are you saying I'm not attractive John?" Molly hissed. John went white, and Sherlock laughed loudly. 

She broke her angry look and began to giggle. Sipping her cup of tea, she smiled at John who was still a bit scarred.  "If you think that's shocking you should have seen them snogging earlier." Mrs. Hudson said as she eerily made her way up the stairs without out a sound, causing Molly to almost spill her tea. 

Sherlock didn't make eye contact with a giggling John as he walked over to his violin, where he lovingly began to wipe her down before brining it up to his neck to play. Molly smiled at the sweet sounds it began to make, it broke off abruptly. 

"You had to talk to Molly about something?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Your telling me you don't already know what it is?"

"Of course but I thought you'd want to share it."

Molly raised her eyebrows, and looked back to John. "I'm going to ask Mary to marry me." 

"Ohhh!! So much good news in one day. I've got to bake something." Molly giggled at the woman as she hurried off.

"Thats all? Well I was already expecting that John." She smiled at him. "She's great. Lemme see the ring!" 

 

Things were still tense, but the worst was over, for now.  Molly knew John still was very hurt, and very angry at Sherlock, but only time and maybe some cases could solve that bridge between them. Sherlock contuined to play as Molly and John talked, before long he had to leave. Sherlock sat down his violin then. And John awkwardly looked down before suddenly going at Sherlock and giving him a bear hug, for which Sherlock gave back. They broke away quickly and John left the room.

And Molly and Sherlock were alone again. "We should call my parents. I'm sure mummy would love to help you again with the baby room. We can travel back and forth, stay here during the early times. Closer to John, when the baby's able to-

"Sherlock we don't have to plot out everything right now." She stood, wrapping her arms around his waist. He kissed her temple. 

"I know." He let out a deep breath. " Come on. Lets.. take a nap. " He grinned at Molly, and for the first Molly actually saw Sherlock's bedroom. 


End file.
